


no one to see, in our hollow tree

by thanatopis



Series: honey pot genji au [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Present!Hanzo, Sibling Incest, Young!Genji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:50:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel fic to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7513030">honey drip</a> where Genji is younger than the OW gang and is in a sexual relationship with McCree, this fic focuses on Genji and Hanzo and explores the brother's relationship.</p><blockquote>
  <p>Hanzo says nothing as Genji approaches. He doesn’t need too, the narrowing of his eyes and the displeased tilt of his mouth is more than enough to get his message across. Genji looks on in bemusement in face of it, where other lesser men have shrunken into themselves being the sole focus of his brother’s attention.</p>
  <p>Genji is all too used to the heavy weight of those eyes on him.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	no one to see, in our hollow tree

The past has proven that sneaking into Shimada castle, no matter how skilled Genji might be, might fool the guards stationed on watch for their shift, but never manages to dupe his older brother, so Genji has stopped trying all together.

He strolls into their shared lodging with an upbeat whistle on his lips, smelling like a mix of amaretto and Jesse McCree, and smiles jovially at his brother who’s been sitting in the front room for god knows how long, waiting for Genji to come back.

Hanzo says nothing as Genji approaches. He doesn’t need too; the narrowing of his eyes and the displeased tilt of his mouth is more than enough to get his message across.

Genji looks on in bemusement in face of it where other lesser men have shrunken into themselves being the sole focus of his brother’s attention. He is all too used to the heavy weight of those eyes on him.

His bare feet pad along the cool tatami floors, jacket hooked over his right shoulder before Genji shrugs it off, letting it fall to the floor in a heap where the house help will find it in the morning, launder it, and return it to Genji before noon.

Hanzo eyes flicker briefly to the fallen jacket, a stain on his perfect canvas, and Genji’s smile broadens.

“There’s a saying brother that if you make that face long enough, it will stick. Wouldn’t that be unfortunate? With a face as handsome as yours?” Genji says, coming to stand in front of Hanzo, body lax and loose from all the liquor and sex, and he nudges his foot against Hanzo’s good naturedly which earns him an uppity scoff and a kick to his shin.

Genji laughs and crowds closer, mood playful. He’s still hyped up, still ready to go, not willing to call it a night just yet when Hanzo is here entertaining him.

“Don’t be like that anija, you’ll hurt my feelings.” Genji whispers, bracketing his hands on the armrests of the chair Hanzo’s sitting in. Genji leans forward, shifting so that his knee comes to rest between the space of Hanzo’s thighs, keeping his distance so no parts of their bodies touch.

It's a new game Genji has invented at this very moment, another competition to best his brother at.

Hanzo’s brow arches, unimpressed, as he snorts low and soft. He hasn’t moved once, Genji notes with ire. Genji wants to make him move.

“You smell like him,” Hanzo says with nothing but observational curiosity. If he’s at all jealous, Genji cannot tell. Hanzo’s breath smells like sake, but he shows no signs of having just drunk the strong liquor.

What’s the point, Genji thinks, if you don’t let alcohol do what it’s supposed to do?

The desire comes from just wanting to see Hanzo in a more vulnerable and open state, pondering all the fun they could have if Hanzo weren’t so uptight and eager to prove something to himself or their dead father.

It had been easier to get Hanzo to relax when father had still been alive. The pressure on Hanzo had been fairly minimal compared to today.

The family business booms all thanks to Hanzo’s no non-sense approach. He is by far crueler than father, more likely to take risks when the benefits are great, and he does not wish to marry despite the issue of heirs.

Genji helps too, of course. He’s the… _softer_ Shimada, for a better lack of word. He’s the youngest, the womanizing playboy with materialism on the mind, and so many underestimate him. Genji likes proving them wrong in the end with a knife in the throat, blood pouring heady and hot all over his hand.

Genji lures the competition and the rivals in with his charismatic charm, sleeps with them when he needs or wants too, and learns their secrets through midnight chatter, bodies pressed close, defenses down, and Genji at that moment seems like the most trustworthy man in the world.

A honey pot Genji might be, but it’s a partnership that has never failed them and will continue to strengthen their empire.

“I’m actually impressed by how long you’ve kept seeing this one, Genji.” Hanzo says in cool, mocking tones. “A commitment to _anything_ has never been a strong suit of yours, but you’re fond of that outlaw. How your tastes have changed.”

Hanzo doesn’t understand many, if not all of the things Genji does when it comes to his personal life, Jesse McCree included.

Luckily, Hanzo allows Genji do whatever he likes as long as he supports the clan and does the occasional favor for him. Some of their men do not appreciate Genji’s proclivity towards interests outside of the business, but he knows Hanzo prefers running the clan alone, likes that he doesn’t have to worry about competition within. Genji is all too happy to let Hanzo have his throne.

Genji has never needed a perch to sit on to feel powerful. His body is a temple, his words are the gospel, and his touch is either salvation or damnation.

Shifting, Genji hums low in consideration close against Hanzo’s neck, still not touching.

“Commitment…is a far stretch for what me and said outlaw have, anija.” Genji murmurs, words velvety and husky from the drink.

“The man is entertaining and he knows how to treat me to a good time. We have fun together.” The innuendo of Genji’s words is clear despite his innocent tone. Hanzo most likely knows that whenever Jesse is in town or Genji is craving his cowboy, they meet up in fancy hotels already paid for and fuck until both of them are sore.

Hanzo _hates_ it, but he won’t say anything about it other than a passing quip, chastising Genji for his tastes. Genji finds it amusing, likes knowing that Hanzo keeps such a close eye on him.

Genji makes as if to affectionately nudge Hanzo’s cheek with his nose, only to pull back just a hair so he doesn’t make contact. He grins, slow and full of teeth.

“What a foolish thing to think anija, when you know there is only one that I am committed to.” Genji says, pleased when he hears Hanzo inhale deep and shifts his body in a minuscule motion in the chair.

Who Genji is committed to goes unsaid. They both know who it is. Genji has made that much clear in his actions and words.

“Such a sweet talker,” Hanzo mutters, casually aloof and purposeful against the shell of Genji’s ear. The warm rush of Hanzo’s breath makes him shiver involuntarily as the sensitive spot behind his ear is heated and roused. Genji leans into it slightly, just a small tilt of his head, unable to help himself because Hanzo’s warm and he smells like amber and expensive cigars that he smokes on occasions.

It’s a mark of a powerful and dangerous man, and Genji has always had a hard-on for those.

“You forget that your words do not work on me. You’re not so clever as you think you are, little brother.”

Genji laughs because he knows that isn’t quite true, despite how much Hanzo would like to believe in his ability to remain unfazed in every kind of situation. His laughter transforms into a low hum, amused and vibrating all throughout his body as he breathes out against Hanzo’s jaw, brushing his lips close to the skin in a phantom’s caress.

“Then tell me…what _would_ work on you Hanzo?” Genji asks, rearing back to face Hanzo head on with a lecherous grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief because he enjoys this so much--these little games they play with each other.

He and Hanzo had never been particularly close when Genji was a child. The age gap between them left little similarities to bond over.

Hanzo had a far superior maturity level compared to Genji’s, and his devoted responsibility towards the clan left very little room for anything else; his little brother and his childish musings included. To say Hanzo held any interest or patience for Genji back then would’ve been an understatement.

They mostly went unnoticed with each other until father’s untimely death when Genji was already a teen, knowing his brother more so from word of mouth and his own gatherings over their short and shallow interactions over the years.

In truth, Hanzo has always felt like a brother in name only.

Hanzo snorts, the sound sardonic and fondly aspirated. His shoulders rock from the force of it as his brow rises, bemused.

Genji takes Hanzo in with greedy eyes because he looks good, soft around the edges in ways he usually won’t be around his peers, who sic like rabid dogs at any signs of weakness. Genji is the only person Hanzo will allow himself to relax around. His perfectly pressed dress shirt is unbuttoned just enough to catch a peak of tattoo that closely resembles the one on Genji’s back, beautifully sprawling and delicate, and Genji’s gaze lingers, the weight of it heavy like a purposeful brush of fingers.

Hanzo sounds incredibly smug when he says, “That assumes you have something that I want, Genji.”

The pout Genji wears doesn’t match his eyes. He shifts his body closer, breaking their unspoken no-touch rule as he climbs into Hanzo’s lap, and slinks his arms around his neck, pulling their bodies closer.

Genji has lost the game, but then again, he always knew he would.

Hanzo is like stone; he won’t move unless you give him enough incentive too, and Genji is all too happy to provided. His nails gently scratch at the nape of Hanzo’s neck, lulling and pleasant, running his fingers through the shorter hairs that can’t fit into the hair tie. Genji smiles knowingly when Hanzo shivers in his grip and makes a stunted grunt deep inside his throat.

“But don’t I, anija?” Genji asks lightly, tilting his head introspectively as if pondering over a thought. “Don’t I always have something you want?”

They are far beyond playing ignorant and coy with what they mean to each other.

Genji rocks his hips lightly, sighing in content when their bodies meet flush together. His fingers drift up towards Hanzo’s hair tie, picking at the knot with his fingers until the cloth loosens and Genji can pull it free of ease. Hanzo’s hair falls around his chin, making him look disheveled and incredibly erotic in the dim light.

Mystified by him, Genji finds himself smiling dopily, running his nails over Hanzo’s scalp to help him relax further. Hanzo’s eyes lid before they fall closed completely with a heavy exhale, displaying the trust that he gives Genji so easily, but shares with no one else.

Genji swells with no small amount of pride, feeling himself wanting to preen because his brother’s trust and affection has always meant the world to him. Genji truly does not know what he would do without it.

“So tense,” Genji teases, rocking his hips more blatantly. He presses his mouth to the underside of Hanzo’s jaw and kisses it sloppy wet, breath hot and damp where it fans out against his skin.

“Lemme take care of you.”

The corner of Hanzo’s mouth quirks and Genji can feel him rock up into the press of his body under the pretense of shifting in the seat.

“So needy…always have been.” Hanzo says, while his broad, calloused fingers caress up Genji’s thighs, prompting them to spread until they hit the side rests of the seat. Genji hums in contentment, loving the feeling of those hands on him. He’d do just about anything for the chance, luckily Hanzo provides readily.

Oh, the pair they make.

Biting his lip, Genji breathes, “You know I can’t help it.”

Hanzo chuckles. There’s something dark and enticing about the sound and Genji shakes when those hands encompass the flare of his hips, pads of his fingers digging in and jerking him closer.

Genji gasps as the heat of Hanzo’s body seeps in through the layers of his clothes, making Genji restless with need because Hanzo is solid against him, the bulge in his pants pressing tight against his ass. It’s enough to have his heart galloping inside the cavity of his chest, threatening to burst right out.

“I know you can’t help it either, anija.” Genji smartly rebuffs, knowing he’s not alone in his immoral desire. Hanzo’s not going to take him down a peg without Genji pulling Hanzo right down with him. They’re in this together. Forever and ever.

Genji’s smile is crooked, lined with charming arrogance as he kisses over Hanzo’s jaw, rubbing back on his cock coyly.

“I wonder what the elders would think if they knew that the first time you took me was when I was seventeen.” Genji contemplates smugly. “You just bent me over and completely _wrecked_ me. Had the gall to just leave me there afterwards with your come running down my thighs like nothing had happened. I felt you for _days_ after that, anija. I wanted you even more…”

The audible hitch in Hanzo’s breath is satisfying in ways Genji cannot describe. He lives for unmaking Hanzo and bringing out the primal, base nature that resides in all living creatures. It’s just that, sometimes when Genji gets it, he’s completely overwhelmed by how much ferocity Hanzo carries underneath that cool and collected façade of clan head.

“You are forgetting that it was _your_ incessant teasing that led to that encounter, little brother.” Hanzo scoffs. “You begged me—got down on your knees and _begged_ for it like a common whore. The elders, at least, would not be surprised by your ability to take it _where ever_ you can get it.” Hanzo says breathy, clutching Genji’s hips harder, roughly dragging him against that hardness that makes his mouth water.

God, how long has it been since he had that cock in his mouth?

Moaning loudly, Genji ruts into it, tilting his head back with how good the friction feels, even through layers of pesky clothing. He can feel Hanzo’s eyes on his face, like two burning candles close to his skin and Genji groans, biting at his lip.

“ _Ah_ —just what are you implying, anija?” Genji breathily asks. He eagerly unbuttons Hanzo’s shirt, needing to feel skin under his hands. Hanzo groans in approval, helping Genji with pulling the shirt carefully tucked inside his pants, and unbuckling his belt too.

There will never be a time where Genji is not affected by the sight of Hanzo shirtless. He’s masculine in all of the clear, obvious ways that Genji is completely weak to, ways that has his ass clenching, desperate to be filled.

Genji traces his fingers up firm abdominals, laying his hands flat when he reaches a tattooed pectoral, fingers dancing over the swirled, yet intricate patterns, utterly enamored no matter how many times he’s seen it.

Genji swears Hanzo’s skin feels like the current of a livewire whenever he touches his tattoo like this. Feels his own tingle on his back in anticipation, like their dragons somehow know.

“Your reputation is half of who you take to bed.” Hanzo says plainly. “You know _exactly_ what I am implying.”

Genji grins as he shrugs out of his shirt, throwing it somewhere towards the side as he slowly slinks out of Hanzo’s lap, wanting Hanzo to miss his body and crave it for that short amount of time that its gone. He makes a show of unbuckling his pants and dragging both his pants and underwear down shapely, muscular legs. Hanzo watches it all with dark eyes, the pupil indistinguishable in the low, intimate light, settling on Genji’s cock like a heavy weight, made heavier by how it dips.

Genji can see Hanzo struggle to control the calmness of his breaths, wanting to appear completely impassive even when he’s with Genji like this.

Genji playfully kicks at Hanzo’s ankle, giving him all the permission he needs with: “So, how do you want me anija?”

**Author's Note:**

> And no one is surprised that I ship this.


End file.
